Well this sucks
by No more darkness
Summary: Shawn and Lassiter don't get along, but they're going to have to learn to, now that they are both being haunted by the spirit of a dead girl that only they can see. NO Slash CHPATERS FOUR AND FIVE ARE UP!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Well, this is just a story that I've had in mind for a while and I just had to type it up.**

**Chapter One**

Never before had Lassiter been so tempted to drive off the road and into a ditch. Although, knowing his luck, he would live.

And so would Spencer.

How in the world the chief believed that he could get any work done with that yahoo around, Lassiter would never know. But here he was, driving down the long deserted highway, with Spencer sitting shotgun and singing "The Song That Never Ends."

Lassiter could shoot him and no one would ever know. The road was surrounded by never ending grain fields. The whole process would take what? Ten…fifteen minutes from his day?

No, he couldn't do that. He wanted to.

"_I just started singing, not knowing what it was."_

Oh, how he wanted to. But he couldn't. Besides, despite how much he hated to admit it, Spencer got the job done and Lassiter wanted this case solved as quickly as possible. For his own sanity if nothing else.

The name of the man that they were investigating was Roy Flemming. He was the only suspect that the police had in a string of unusual crimes. Mostly robberies. And most involving chickens in some way or another. Ceramic chickens, pictures of chickens, stuffed chickens, wooden chickens, KFC, and honest to goodness, real live, still clucking and flapping their wings chickens.

It goes without saying that SBPD was having a shortage on actual crime. Otherwise, Lassiter wouldn't be caught dead within fifty feet of this case. Or stuck in his small car with his least favorite person…second, least favorite person. Truthfully, and he would never admit this to the psychic, Lassiter's least favorite person was still that scary "rookie" that he had been stuck with, while O'Hara went undercover in a college dorm.

Speaking of O'Hara, Lassiter was going to give her hell when she came back from visiting her family. You know what? He was going to give Guster hell too, for the sole reason that if he hadn't gone off on a business trip, then maybe the Chief wouldn't have been so driven up the wall by the overly rambunctious psychic, and forced Lassiter to allow him to come along.

It really didn't help that the drive to where the suspect lived, was ninety minutes out of town.

"Spencer," Lassiter growled, reining in enough of his anger so that he didn't kill the young man sitting next to him, "if you don't desist with that noise, then I am going to throw you from this car, whether it's still moving or not."

The psychic pouted, made some comment about Lassiter's hairline, and then went into a long lecture about pineapples and how they were the superior fruit.

Lassiter tuned him out. It was easier to do, now that Spencer wasn't screeching.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -

The whole trip was a total bust. Flemming didn't live in the small dusty town anymore. And no one could give him any information on the man, except that he had a chicken fetish. The only thing that Lassiter got from the trip was ninety minutes in the car with Spencer, a lecture on pineapples and a migraine. And now he couldn't even get the

seven-year-old-in-a-man's-body, back into the car, for the hour and a half's ride back.

"Spencer," Lassiter yelled, catching Shawn's attention as he looked through a dirty window at a shop full antiques (he was looking at a small velvet dog with a missing eye), "If you don't get in the car now, then I will leave you here and you will get to hitch a ride home."

Shawn cast one last glance at the dog, before he trotted over to Lassiter, who was standing by his car.

"Lassie, you really need to lighten up," Shawn said, smiling at the sour-faced detective. "Why don't you stop and smell the roses some times."

Lassiter didn't dignify Shawn with an answer and merely opened his car door and slid inside.

Giving a small shrug, Shawn got into the car quietly. He had a feeling that if he waited any longer then Lassiter would be good to his threat and drive off. Besides, he could bother Lassiter more, once they were back on the road.

Lassiter was just starting to drive off, when an old man jumped out, right in front of the car. Swerving, and slamming on his brakes, Lassiter barely managed to not hit the guy.

"Stop," the man shouted, waving his arms frantically back and forth, his long gray beard sticking up at odd angles. "You must stop," he commanded, hurrying to Lassiter's window.

"Get back," Lassiter commanded, rolling his window down only an inch, far enough that his voice would carry out.

"You mustn't go that way," the man insisted, his light brown eyes pleading.

Lassiter took a moment, to take in the man's appearance. Facial appearance and hygiene, suggested a hobo. The suite that he was wearing, on the other hand, suggested someone important. In the end though, Carlton decided that the man was just crazy.

"You mustn't go that way," the man repeated in earnest. "Evil spirits live down that road and if you travel down it, you might die."

"Nice try," Lassiter said, his tone brushing the man off, "we came into town by that road and nothing happened."

Lassiter started to drive forward, but again the man threw himself in front of the car.

"What the—" Lassiter yelled, slamming back on his brakes and punching the horn.

"He's right," a less crazy looking, slightly middle-aged woman called out. She had been watching the whole thing. "If you go down that road, trying to leave town, bad things will happen. You'll go insane. There's another road that you can take," she pointed behind her, at a different road that lead in the opposite direction that the two men wanted to go. "It will only add forty-five minutes to your trip," the woman added.

"Are you mad?" Lassiter demanded.

Forty-five _extra_ minutes in the car with the psychic. After he had accidentally let him drink a can of Mountain Dew? No, Lassiter was not going to deal with that. He could not be held responsible for his actions if trapped with a caffeinated Shawn for too long.

Instead of answering the crazy old man or the busy-body woman, Lassiter revved his engine. Surprised, the man jumped away from the car, giving Lassiter enough time to drive away, before he could throw himself back onto his car.

Great, he was going to have to washed his car again.

"Hey Lassie," Shawn said, his tone hard to read, "maybe we should take the other road."

Shawn didn't believe that any evil spirits resided down the road, and he didn't believe that they would go nuts by driving down it, but still… Lassiter may have not been paying attention to anything while they were in town, but Shawn had, and almost everyone that he had talked to, had told him not to go back down that road. Everyone seemed genuinely afraid of that road, but Shawn had chalked it all up to an old superstition. He hadn't thought that anyone would try to physically stop them.

"Besides," Shawn said, a big grin spreading across his face, "then we could spend more time together, bonding."

Lassiter actually looked horrified at the thought.

"Not on your life," he growled, stepping on the gas.

"Uh, hey Lassie," Shawn said, leaning over in his seat and looking at the dashboard, "you're going kind of fast."

"I know," Lassiter said, panic coloring his voice, "I can't—"

Lassiter was cut off when the car, ripping from his control, flew wildly off the road and into the surrounding fields. Lassiter was aware of a loud crunching noise, before his airbag came out and, slamming his body forcefully back onto his seat, sent him into unconsciousness.

A/N: Well, that's chapter one. I hope you enjoyed and please review


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Here's chapter two, hope you enjoy.**

**Chapter Two**

As Lassiter slowly came to, he was aware of two things. One, he could hear humming off to his right. And two, he wasn't in his car. Groaning slightly, he opened his eyes and found himself staring up at the light blue sky.

How the heck did he get here?

The humming stopped.

"You're really lucky you know."

Surprised by the feminine voice, Lassiter sat up. Dizziness and nausea washed over him. Closing his eyes, he took a few deep breaths, until his lightheadedness subsided. Unfortunately it was replaced by a dull pounding. But he was able to push that away and look around, until he saw the source of the voice, in the form of a young girl that was sitting only a few feet away from him.

The girl was fifteen, maybe sixteen. She had dark chocolate eyes and light blond hair that reached down to her shoulders. She was wearing a light green tank-top, faded jeans that were starting to tear at the knees and a pair of grungy old running shoes.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Lassiter asked, his tone unacceptably weak, because he was unable to muster up enough authority or conviction in his voice.

Instead of saying anything, the girl nodded at something behind Lassiter.

With a sinking feeling in his stomach (he had just crashed his car hadn't he?) Lassiter looked behind him to see the charred remains of what used to be his car. A strangled noise that got caught in his throat, was the sound that Lassiter could make.

His car. His beautiful car. Ruined.

"Where's Spencer?" Lassiter demanded suddenly, turning back to the girl. For a moment he had almost forgotten his temporary partner.

"I'm right here, Lassie," Shawn said, walking from where he stood by the road, over to Lassiter, who still sat in the field.

Lassiter wouldn't admit it, even under torture, but he was relieved that the psychic was okay.

"I saw you guys run off the road," the girl said, looking from Shawn to Lassiter. "I ran over and smelt gas, so I pulled you two out. Not ten seconds after I pulled you both away, did the car catch fire. The fire burnt out a while ago. You've been here for three to four hours."

"What?!" Lassiter yelled, his strength coming back to him. Struggling a little, he pulled himself to his feet, waving Shawn away when he came over to help.

"It's a good thing that the fields didn't catch fire," the girl continued talking, acting as if Lassiter's outburst hadn't happened, "I'm surprised it didn't catch fire."

"Four hours?" Lassiter demanded, "And you didn't even bother to call the police or an ambulance."

"Calm down," Shawn said, holding up his phone, "I already called an ambulance and a tow-truck. They should be hear soon."

Lassiter, for the first time, took in Shawn's appearance. The psychic looked like hell. He was covered in dirt and his hair was even more disheveled than it usually was. Not to mention that he had a cut near his right temple that seemed to have bleed badly and now had crusted over.

"You don't look to good yourself," Shawn said, seeming to read Lassiter's mind.

Shawn really didn't look good and the closer Lassiter looked, the more he saw. Cuts, bruises, and very chalky white skin. Quite frankly, Lassiter was surprised that the psychic had woken up at all.

"How long have you been conscious?" Lassiter asked.

"Of what?"

"…"

"Hey guys," the girl said, suddenly jumping to her feet and running over to the two men, "I've been trying to catch a ride for a while now, do you think that I could hitch a ride with you on the ambulance or, you know, tow-truck…whatever?"

"Uh, sure," Shawn said, turning to the girl.

"Thank you," the girl smiled. "My name is Shaley."

"Shawn, head psychic at the SBPD. This is my associate, Lassie Mc—"

For a second Shawn's eyes went out of focus and he swayed a little. Worried, Lassiter reached out and steadied him. After a moment, the little spell passed, and Shawn gave his head a light shake to clear his head.

"Sorry," he said, his voice slightly dazed. "And this is Lassie McCrankyPants."

"Shut up, Spencer," Lassiter growled, letting go of Shawn's upper arm and stalking over to the road.

**A/N: Yes, I know that the chapters are short, but I'm going to see if it's easier more me to update more, if the chapter's stay short. Let's hope.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Well, here's chapter three**

The ride in the ambulance was a long one. Not because the ambulance didn't turn around when it got them, but instead headed all the way back to the town and then took the other road, the one that the town's people had told them to take in the first place. It was because Lassiter was fuming about how the tow company refused to go down that road and retrieve the remains of his car. It didn't matter that he would never be able to drive the thing again, it was still his property and he wanted it removed from that field.

As the paramedics looked over Shawn and Lassiter, neither liked the looks that they kept getting. The ones that said that the paramedics expected them to drop dead any second.

"You two are very lucky." Shawn and Lassiter were told over and over again.

Shaley sat quietly in the corner and no one paid much attention to her.

"Well," one of the medics said, biting his bottom lip, "you two _seem_ okay, but I think that you should probably spend a few days at the hospital."

"Why?" Lassiter demanded suspiciously.

"Uh, well," the medic said, clearly nervous, though Lassiter and Shawn didn't really know why.

"Because," Lassiter said, making a point, "if I am conscious and moving now, there must not be that much wrong with me."

"I agree with Lassie-face," Shawn, who had been unusually quite, spoke up.

"You guys probably just need to rest," Shaley said, speaking for the first time.

"Yeah," Shawn said in agreement, as Lassiter nodded his head.

Another worried glance passed between the two medics.

"Sirs," one of the medics said firmly, "you really need to spend a few days in the hospital."

Nothing that Lassiter, Shawn, or Shaley said, could sway the medics to change their minds.

**A/N: Yes I know that it's short, and not too much happened. This chapter was more of a bridge to the next one. And please review, because I love them.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Henry was sitting in his living room with the TV turned on, but he wasn't watching the show. Instead, he was thinking about what he was going to make for dinner. He had been really busy that day and had gotten in late. Getting up, Henry went into the kitchen and opened his freezer, to see what meats he had.

He had: fish, steak, roast, hamburger and ham. Earlier that week, Shawn had come over and taken all of the chicken out of Henry's freezer, while telling him that it was for his own good. Henry had yelled at his son, demanding him to bring back his food, but Shawn had been unrelenting and had walked out of the house with a weeks worth of chicken.

Henry let him go, figuring that if his son was so desperate for food, that he could have it.

Henry had just decided that he would go out and buy something to eat, when his phone started ringing. With a sigh he went over and picked it up.

"Hello?" He asked.

"Hello Henry, this is Karen."

"Karen? Well this is a surprise. Is something wrong? What'd Shawn do now?"

"No, it's nothing that Shawn did…"

"Well?"

"Shawn accompanied Detective Lassiter today, on a lead that we had and… there was a crash."

"Is Shawn okay?" Henry instantly demanded.

"I wasn't told much. All I know is that both he and Lassiter are at the St. John hospital. I'm on my way there now, and I was just hoping to reach you before the hospital called. I know how much you hate hospital calls."

"Yes, thank you Karen. I'll be right there. Bye."

There goes dinner.

Henry was almost through the door when the phone started ringing. He jogged back to it and picked it up.

"Yes?"

"Hello, this is Doctor—"

"I already know," Henry cut him off. Then he hung the phone up and left.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -

Henry reached the hospital at the same time that Karen did, so the two silently went in together. Then they had to wait for almost an hour before someone came into the waiting room to talk to them. To fill the time, the did the large amount of paper work that they were given.

"How's my detective?" Karen asked the slightly balding doctor, when he pulled her and Henry out of the room and into the hall.

"How's Shawn?" Henry demanded at the same time.

"They are both very lucky right now," the doctor said solemnly.

"What's wrong?" Karen asked as Henry glared at the doctor. Truthfully, both of them hated it when people beat around the bush.

"Well," the doctor said, pushing his glasses up his nose, "first off. Shawn has a very bad concussion and a broken ankle. Detective Lassiter also has a concussion, though not as bad, and has a few cracked ribs. Good news is though, that when they were brought in, they were both conscious. Though, that is not the case now."

"So they're going to be fine?" Karen asked, keeping professional.

"Well…" the doctor trailed off.

"Well, what?" Henry asked, taking a menacing step towards the doctor.

"Well," the doctor repeated, "it's just that…it's where they crashed. There's a history tied to the road that they ran off of and… we'd like to keep them for observations in the…psychiatric ward."

"What?" Henry demanded as Karen stared at the doctor disbelievingly.

"Anyone who has survived a crash from on that road, has had serious psychological problems afterwards," the doctor explained.

"Listen here," Henry said, "my son is not cra— he and the detective are going to be fine."

"Okay," the doctor said, holding his hands up defensively, "I won't do anything without your permission."

"Good," Henry growled.

"Okay, let me just get one of the nurses, and they can show you to the room that your son and the detective are sharing."

The doctor went over to the front desk and started talking to the girl behind it.

Karen looked down at her watch. "I need to be going. I was here longer than I had meant. I'll be sending McNabb down, make sure that he calls me, if something changes."

"Of course," Henry agreed.

As Karen left, a young nurse, who was wearing sky blue scrubs and had her hair pulled back into a ponytail came over to Henry and took him to his son's room. As they walked down the halls it suddenly occurred to Henry, that he was going to have to call Gus.

**A/N: No, I am not horribly inconsistent, I didn't suddenly decide to have Shawn and Lassiter severly injured, despite them being "fine" earlier. I all will be explained with time.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I know that I don't often post two chapters back to back, but I had already typed them up, and sheer fear that the computer would die and I'd lose what I had typed forever, has driven me to post them.**

**Chapter Five**

The slow steady beeping of a heart monitor was the first thing that Shawn was aware of as he came to. Strangely enough, though, the full realization that he was in a hospital, didn't come until he had opened his eyes, and found himself staring at the blank sterile room.

"Thank goodness your awake," Shawn heard someone off to his left say.

Looking over to the source of the familiar voice, Shawn found Lassie laying out in the bed next to him.

"You," Lassiter was directing his command to the young girl that sat at the foot of his bed, "go bother him now."

The teen gave a small shrug and hopped off of Lassiter's bed and headed over to Shawn's

"Hey Shaley," Shawn greeted as she came over and sat down on the corner of his bed. He tried to sit up, but found it nearly impossible to, when his head swam dizzily, at the slightest bit of elevation.

"You need to be careful not to overexert yourself," Shaley instructed, just out of Shawn's line of sight.

"Yeah yeah," Shawn shrugged it off. "I've heard it all before. Hey Lassie," he said, turning his head so that he was looking at the detective, "was that concern that I heard earlier, when I first woke up?"

"No," Lassiter growled, "it was desperation. This girl might actually be more annoying than you are."

"I do what I can," Shaley said airily.

"How long have I been out?" Shawn asked, trying to sit up again, but having no more luck than he had the first time.

"A day or two," Shaley answered with a shrug. "No big deal."

"A day or two," Shawn said, feeling slightly alarmed, then he turned a little bitter as he uttered his nest comment, "figures that my dad would be found nowhere in sight."

"Actually Spencer," Lassiter said, looking at the ceiling instead of Shawn, "he was here earlier. So was Guster and O'Hara. Little Miss No Life of Her Own, over there, just so happens to never leave. It's way passed visiting hours."

"Really?" Shawn asked, directing the question at Shaley, and wishing that he could sit up to see her.

"Yeah, well…I have nothing better to do."

"I'm surprised that the nurses haven't kicked you out," Shawn said thoughtfully. "I know how strict they are."

"I keep out of their line of sight," Shaley said, a shrug in her voice.

Shawn's brow furrowed. Was it just him, or was there something else in Shaley's tone, other than just apathy? Shawn was almost sure that there was more to her comment, than what was said.

"Will you two shut your mouths," Lassiter growled, it more of a command than a request. "I'd like to sleep."

"We've been asleep for two days Lassie," Shawn said, managing to push himself up onto his elbow, without becoming insanely dizzy. "I think that you could stand to be awake for a few minutes."

"_You've_ been asleep for two days," Lassiter corrected. "_I've_ been awake, and forced to suffer through the coddling of my partner and the inane ramblings of McNabb. Not to mention your father who just sits there, glaring. And Guster, who can't seem to find anything to talk about, aside from you. You and every crazy thing that you've ever done. Ever."

"I like the chinchilla story," Shaley interjected. "Who knew that you could do that with string cheese."

Shawn smiled at the memory. That was the time that the two friends realized that Gus did not look good in Easter bonnets. Oh the things that you have to do, to protest fur coats.

"Yes," Lassiter said gruffly, "an amusing anecdote. Now shut up."

"That's okay," Shaley said, moving into Shawn's line of vision, "I need to slip out anyway. The nurses will be coming around soon. I'll see you two in the morning."

"Goodnight," Shawn called after Shaley.

She turned around and waved to the two men, before she turned the room's light off.

"So," Shawn said, talking into the darkness, "I bet you never thought that we'd be left together…in the dark…alone…in bed."

"Shut up!"

Shawn snickered lightly, but before long, found himself growing drowsy. And sore. He hadn't felt this sore earlier, or this tired. Before he could think about it too long though, he was fast asleep.


End file.
